


Lipstick

by marypoppinsyall



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marypoppinsyall/pseuds/marypoppinsyall
Summary: Angsty 40's Bucky drabble.





	Lipstick

“C’mon Doll,  _please_?”

He was using that voice again. The one he used when she had a counterattack for every assault he launched on her defense, the one that crumbled her steel resolve 99% of the time. His Hail Mary.

Digging her nails into the palms of her hands, she called on every  _ounce_ of strength she had left, closing her eyes against the look of disappointment she knew would erase the pleading grin that currently graced his handsome face. He looked too damn cute with that lopsided smile and crooked green cap. When did the Army start dressing so… _snazzy_.

“ _No_ , James.”

That had done it. She never used his first name. She felt him stiffen beside her, felt his eyes on her face, but he didn’t give up just yet.

“It’s my last night…”

_Oh, Lord._

Disappointment she was prepared for, not the quiet plea that came.

“I know, Buck,” she sucked in a deep breath, words tumbling out of her mouth to keep the tears at bay. “But Mr. Davis already isn’t too pleased with me because of all the time I had to take off last month to take care of Stevie and I have  _so much_  work to catch up on and I’m  _almost done_  with night school, then I can start picking up shifts at the hospital and maybe once I start making more money he’ll stop dragging himself to every county in New York trying to enlist and I’m already having a hard time as it is putting food on the table and he’s just getting so  _skinny_ -“

“Hey, hey now Bee, it’s alright,” he cooed, gently taking her by the shoulders to turn her around and cradle her to his chest. Her sniffles were drowned out by the lapels of his uniform, and he was sure he’d catch hell for showing up on his first day with lipstick on his collar, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, guilt crawling up his throat. He should have just dropped it.

“No, it’s fine,” she sputtered as she pulled away, dabbing gently at the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. Her boss wasn’t a very sympathetic man, and she was on thin ice as it was. She didn’t see him taking too kindly to a blotched, bloodshot receptionist. “I’m sorry I’m gonna miss out on your last night.”

“Nah, Bee, don’t sweat it.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek bone to catch a stray tear before slipping a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. “If you don’t stop buzzin’ so hard bumble bee, your wings’ll fall off.”

Relief coursed through him at the twinkle that returned to her eyes. So much like her brother’s, and yet, so different.

“You’ll watch after him tonight, won’t you?”

He clutched his chest dramatically in mock hurt, stumbling back a step for good measure.

“C’mon, look who you’re talkin’ to!”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I know exactly who I’m talking to. The fat-headed, doll dizzy James Buchanan Barnes, a magnet for every khaki-wacky dame in New York.”

He flashed a boyish smile, hands slipping into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

“And here I thought you knew me,” he drawled.

“I do,” she said matter-of-factly. “I know that underneath that dashing uniform and charming smile, you’re just an off the cobb Brooklyn boy that watches the stars.”

His eyes softened, still dancing with laughter as she shot him one last pointed look before turning back to the framed mirror hanging by the dingy apartment door to fix her hair, running a finger along her bottom lip to erase a smudge of fire-engine red lipstick.

“I really am sorry, Buck,” she said as her eyes flitted to his in the mirror.

He brushed it off with a wave of his hand, gallantly offering his arm as she turned to open the front door.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

A thought struck her as they reached the last step and he walked to the curb, raising his arm to hail her a taxi. She pushed down the fluttering in her stomach and turned to him, shoulders set.

“Tell you what,” she began, forcing herself to look him in the eye as he turned at the sound of her voice. “You come back in one piece, and I’ll let you take me to Brennan’s. Just like you always asked.”

His eyes glittered with the grin that broke out on his face, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“And the pictures?”

She fought the endearing smile that tugged at her mouth as she nodded.

“Yes, Bucky. And the pictures.”

The cab pulled up beside them as she giggled at his playful eyebrow wag.

“It’s a date,” he announced, pulling the door open for her with a flourish.

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, the barely-there pink outline a ghost of her lip’s caress on his skin.

“Don’t be late, soldier.” Her voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, and she lingered for just a moment before ducking into the car to hide the fresh redness in her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” came his gentle reply, moments before the car door closed between them.

He watched the car drive away, eyes on the silhouette of her head in the back of the window until it disappeared in the bustling Brooklyn traffic, knowing her refusal to turn back for one last glance a desperate attempt to keep her tears in. She never was good at that.

His last thought as he fell was if she would have worn that lipstick.


End file.
